


steal me, sweet thief

by shewarbler



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: M/M, Weapons, but not in that way, but not in the way you think, reed is cocky, she gets handcuffed, why am I incapable of writing SHORT THINGS??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 19:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16540691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewarbler/pseuds/shewarbler
Summary: Rookie Detective Shane Anderson thinks he can score points by detaining a thus far anonymous, illusive art thief.





	steal me, sweet thief

**Author's Note:**

> If someone could show me how to write a one-shot less than 2k, that would be great.
> 
> For my opera wife, Bridget.

Shane could feel his heart hammering against his ribs as he slowly slid his back along the wall, weapon drawn at his side. The clattering coming from within the room provided enough cover for him to flick to safety off and take a few steadying breaths. First on the scene, Shane considered his options whilst the voice of Captain Amos echoed through his mind. _Wait for back up Anderson,_ he had been instructed, _don’t you dare go in there alone!_ But Shane, still new to the squad, was very eager to please. And arresting the infamous _Dalton Academy_ art thief? There was no doubt that would give Shane the head-start he needed for his new career.

The alarm system had been triggered, only briefly, but for long enough to send an alert through to Shane’s scanner. He called it in and headed to the location, killing the sirens once he was sure they would be within earshot of the building as to not scare off the intruder.

“How can you be sure its him, rookie?” Detective Wright had questioned over his radio, “That location was hit just last month.”

 “Exactly.” Shane retorted, trying hard not to give too much attitude to his superior, “It’s _just_ been hit. He won’t be expecting us to expect him to hit it again. Plus, the extra security was pulled off after the MetGala hit last week.”

A heavy sigh came over from a third channel, “Please. For the love of god please do _not_ remind me of that.” Captain Amos muttered down his line. “The Larson’s are already riding my ass about that one. Check it out, Anderson. I’m sending back up your way – they’ll meet you there.”

 “Thank you, sir.” Shane chirped eagerly as he sped up a little, “It’s him. I know it is.”

 Edging closer to the corner, adrenaline coursing through him, Shane thought over the things he encountered after arriving on scene. Considering the age of the building, it wasn’t surprising that parts had not been sourced to fix the locks on the main door yet. He had made a mental note however to mention to the Captain the lack of night guard – considering the expensive contents of the building Shane definitely expected there to be something resembling a patrol. But there was nothing, and Shane was there alone, and was not about to let a thief escape.

As Shane reached the entryway, all noise within had ceased. He strained his hearing in an attempt to give him any advantage as to what he would encounter once around the corner but came up empty. Preparing himself for every circumstance, Shane’s fingers flexed around his pistol and flashlight as he gave himself a mental pep talk.

_Now or never, Anderson. Time to prove yourself…_

With a sharp intake of breath, Shane spun on one foot and planted the other in a firm stance on the exhale, coming face to face with the room. An empty room. Aside from his eyes, Shane didn’t move. He scanned the room in a single sweep and processed all the relevant details in a matter of seconds.

The room was dark, illuminated only by Shane’s flashlight and the glow of the moon through the grimy windows. Shane panned his light around the room a little slower, flinching just slightly as silhouettes were cast along the floor by the realistic statues within the gallery. He stepped lightly, careful to avoid creaking floorboards and the elaborate exhibits, until he reached the black duffel bag in the centre of the room. The adrenaline pumping through him made Shane’s mouth dry, and he licked his lips before crouching down in front of the bag. 

It was a standard issue gym bag, probably sold in hundreds of stores around the state – impossible to trace back to its owner. Shane stuck his flashlight between his teeth and moved his gun to one hand, so he could flip open the top of the bag. The contents seemed stereotypical of a thief at first: gloves, various tools including a crowbar and screwdriver and a selection of plastic transportation tubes. However, the more Shane rummaged around in the bag, the further together his eyebrows knitted. In amongst the equipment were a few misplaced items – paintbrushes, blank canvases, a hat (designer, Shane noted, and expensive), and lastly, buried at the bottom of the bag…a passport.

Shane shifted slightly and reached for his phone, intending to snap a photo of the passport and send it over to the office immediately, when a creaking floorboard behind him sent him whirling around and wildly pointing his gun in the direction of the sound.

“Don’t shoot! Please! I- I- I don’t want to be here!” a voice shrieked from behind empty hands held up in Shane’s direction. “Please…help me.”

Shane focused his gaze and looked beyond the glaring light and shaking hands, squinting slightly at the small frame of a man standing not far from him. He kept his gun raised and assessed the suspect. _Small. Strawberry blonde curls. Bandaged hands. Dressed immaculately in fitting black clothes._ Shane made eye contact, saw the fear in the man’s eyes and… _oh._ He was beautiful. Easily the most beautiful person Shane had ever laid his sights on. His small frame shook with terror even after Shane lowered his weapon. 

“Whmph rr uu?” Shane asked the man, who looked at him with a scrunched brow. Shane wasn’t proud to admit he didn’t realise the flashlight was still held between his teeth. Somewhat awkwardly, Shane removed the flashlight and cleared his throat before repeating his statement. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The man still looked unsure, so Shane took a small step toward him. “It’s okay. I’m a police officer. What’s your name?”

It was dark enough in the hall still that Shane missed the minute change in the man’s features before he responded, “My name…I-I’m Reed.” Pouting his lips slightly and staring at Shane with wide eyes, the man spoke again. “Please, I don’t want to be here but this man he…he made me let him in and I…I was scared he would hurt me.”

Shane automatically stiffened and tightened his grip around his gun, fixing the witness with a stern gaze. “Where is he? It’s very important you tell me where he went.”

Reed pointed a still trembling finger toward an adjacent room to the gallery they were currently in, and Shane turned to him before heading to the archway. “Okay Reed, I need you to stay here. Back up is coming, so it won’t be long until someone finds you. _Stay here_ , okay? Here, you can keep this.”

Shane handed over his flashlight and gave him a reassuring smile before turning his back on Reed and raising his sidearm level with his eyes. He hadn’t taken more than half a dozen cautious steps toward the other room before it happened. A harsh _thunk_ against the back of his head that sent Shane sprawling to the floor, his gun audibly tumbling away from him as the outskirts of his vision blurred. Seconds later a weight was pressing down on top of Shane’s back – not a painful weight, but enough to make him squirm uncomfortably against it – and something was being tugged free from his belt.

Only when the harsh nip of handcuffs tugged at his skin did Shane’s senses fully return, causing him to thrash a little more forcefully against his new restraints. “What the hell? Uncuff me! Immediately!” 

A soft chuckle came from close by Shane’s ear, making him gasp and shiver at the hot breath that ghosted across his skin. “Don’t struggle, they’ll bruise if you fight against it. And those aren’t the bruises I’m accustomed to leaving…”

Shane craned his neck as far to the side as he could, attempting to catch a glance of whoever was on top of him. A strawberry curl caught the corner of his eye, and Shane spoke out in surprise, “Reed? Reed, what are you doing?”

“Oh, honey…” Reed responded as he gripped Shane’s elbow with surprising force. Shane was unceremoniously, but easily, flipped over and hit his back to the floor with a painful thud. Reed straddled his waist, one hand perched on his hip while the other lay atop Shane’s chest. “You really fell for that whole innocent thing, huh?”

“What? What are you talking about? You said –”

“Oh come on. I was _acting_ , sweetie. Surely you’re clever enough to figure the rest out, hm?”

The sickly-sweet tone Reed used as he spoke to Shane simultaneously infuriated and intrigued him. Who was this guy? What did he know? Why the hell were these handcuffs so painful?

“Uncuff me. _Now_.” Shane demanded in his sternest voice.

“Ooh, officer. I like that tone.” Reed mock fanned himself with a hand before reaching out to twirl one of Shane’s curls around one of his fingers. Reed cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes sliding down Shane’s body and snapping back up to make eye contact in one fluid motion. “You’re cute. Still a rookie. Alright then, I guess I could…help you out a little.”

Shane knew he should jerk away; should still be fighting against the cuffs and thinking back to all his hostage negotiation training to get himself out of this potentially volatile situation. Backup couldn’t be too far off now, all he had to do was keep Reed talking and calm, keep him _here_ , until someone else arrived. But Reed was so…intoxicating. His deep brown eyes contrasted against the pale, smooth tones of his skin and sharpness of his facial features. The smirk that graced Reed’s lips meant Shane’s eyes gravitated toward them more than once, causing Reed’s cockiness to grow with every glance.

“I saw you checking out my clothes, before. Looking through my bag?” Reed prompted Shane, “Strange coincidence that I’m wearing an outfit suited to being in a building at night, no?”

Shane knew he should fight. Knew he was dealing with a _criminal_. But something about Reed compelled him to want more. He needed more.

“You’re him.” Shane managed to get out, finally finding his voice, “You’re the Dalton Academy art thief.”

Reed threw his head back and laughed into the rafters of the gallery, making Shane’s mouth fall open at the melodic echo. “God. That name makes me laugh. You think they would have been able to come up with something a little more decent than that. I leave you clues. I hit the _MetGala_ for goodness sake! And what do they do? Name me after that stupid school.”

“You’re notorious. Pretty impressive, actually. My Captain had been going crazy trying to trace you.” Shane admitted, trying to hold Reed’s attention for as long as possible. “I thought if I caught you, I’d get a good rep with the guys in the station.”

Reed smiled softly at Shane, almost understandingly. “They give you a hard time, huh?” his hand moved to caress Shane’s cheek gently, and Shane found himself leaning into the touch rather than pulling away. “What’s your name?”

“Officer Anderson of the 21st Ohio Precinct.” Shane retorted almost automatically. “What’s yours?”

“Your _real_ name.” Reed said with a chuckle.

“Oh.” Shane blinked in surprise. “It’s…Shane.”

“Why do you think I do what I do, Shane?” a curious expression fell over Reed’s face, replacing the cockiness and signature smirk. Shane couldn’t quite identify it.

“Who knows – why does any thief do what they do? Money?”

“Power. Confidence. Do you have any idea how it feels to get away with the things I do? No one believed in me, Shane. No one thought I could do it. Thought I could _be something_.” Reed laughed again, but this time his voice held a bitter tone. “If only they could see me now…”

“Look, Reed I can help, I -”

Shane was cut off by the sound of sirens, distant, but fast approaching. Reed must have heard them too, if the way his head jerked to the side suddenly was any indication. He sighed dramatically and turned to Shane, that devastating smirk plastered across his face again. 

“Well, that’s my cue to leave.”

In a few quick movements, Reed pulled himself away from Shane and was on his feet, striding across the room to scoop up his bag and pull the hat over his head. It would have been adorable, the way a few of his perfect curls stuck out from all around the edge of the black beanie, if it weren’t for the crowbar Reed brandished in his hands. He moved toward the same door Shane had entered through but stopped after a few paces and turned back toward Shane. 

“Before I go…” Reed stalked toward Shane again, dumping the bag and crowbar at his feet before he fell to his knees next to Shane’s head. Shane was preparing himself for a blow of some sort – a fist, a slap, a gag to be shoved into his mouth. But what Reed did next knocked the air out of him in a way no amount of training could have prepared him for. Gloved hands came up and held Shane’s face gently between them, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones before lips were pressed against his own in a fiery kiss full of tongue and heat and dominance and Shane’s mind was swimming in the taste of adrenaline and _Reed_ and then…

It was gone.

Reed looked down at Shane. He smirked at the panting mess he had left the detective in and moved to within a millimetre of Shane’s lips once more to whisper his parting words.

“I’ll be in touch, officer.”

Shane had no option but to watch as reed scooped up the bag containing all the evidence they needed and disappeared into the darkened corridor. Below him, and outside, he could hear the tell-tale signs of back up arriving and sweeping the building. Shane had maybe two, three minutes before they found him, and spent the entire duration with only one thought.

“Well, that part certainly isn't going in the incident report.”

**


End file.
